Her Turn
by RPenelope
Summary: I started this story a few weeks ago before I knew Marshall was going to propose to Abigail. In another universe, this is what happened...
1. Chapter 1

Author Note:

I started this story a few weeks ago, before I knew that Marshall was going to propose to Abigail. The idea happened upon me one day while I was bored at work, and suddenly I was off jotting notes on a scrap of paper wherever I had the chance. Then that episode had to go and kill my buzz. I wanted to post though before the next episode airs, with Mary finding out, before the ax has completely slashed through my idea. There is more to come but I am still working on it.

I've written fics before but never submitted anything to a site. This also has not been beta'd though I have reread in myself about 20 times. I hope this doesn't suck. Thanks for reading!

Mary was working on a threat assessment when she overheard the end of Marshall's call: "Okay. Sounds good. Can't wait to see you tonight."

Abigail. She mentally shrugged her shoulders. She hated the distance between her and Marshall that had grown since the beginning of his relationship with Abigail. If she was being honest with herself, she would admit that the distance began when she took off for Mexico with Faber. However, busying herself with her work, she wasn't going to entertain that train of thought right now. She glanced in Marshall's direction and noticed a bizarre smile on his face. "What are you so smug about?" she asked teasingly.

He looked up at her, losing a bit of his joy. He had every intention of telling her but he was nervous about her reaction and didn't really want to hear her exclamations about how much she couldn't stand Abigail. "I'm going to ask Abigail to marry me tonight."

Mary felt the air rush out of her like some had struck her abdomen with a bat. "Wow!" she managed with that exhaled air but couldn't find the breath for another word and her eyes grew wide. She felt the color drain from her face as she looked at him, blinking her eyes, trying to manage to say something else. The silence lasted a few moments, bordering on awkward, when she spoke softly. "That's really great Marshall."

What could she say? She wanted to scream 'NOOOO!' but she was supposed to be a supportive friend. He was nothing but supportive to her. She couldn't believe this was happening. She should have seen it coming but she had always just convinced herself that they were playing house. She already missed so much of his presence in her life, but she had figured she would get it back eventually. 'He's moved on. He's really moved on. He's not coming back,' she thought to herself.

"Congratulations," she tried to say louder but it only came out as a whisper.

She turned back to her computer screen because she realized she had forgotten how to breathe. She tried to focus on the threat assessment but her mind refused to focus on anything but Marshall. She could feel his eyes on her so she started typing random letters to make him think that she was fine. Her body was betraying her, as her hands were shaking and she felt light-headed.

Marshall eventually turned back to his screen but watched her over the next five minutes. He was processing her reactions and body language. He kept replaying the look of heartbroken shock on her face that she tried so hard to conceal. He saw her face turn very pale and he could see her hands shaking across their desks. She had that look, the same look he knew he wore when he had to pretend to be happy about her engagement to Raph. Her reaction made his heart pound in his chest. 'God damn it!' he thought to himself. He really thought he was over Mary and he was mad at himself for getting sucked right back in simply from seeing her reaction. 'It doesn't mean anything,' he scolded himself and he forced himself back to his work and his plans for the night ahead.

Mary could feel her insides churning and her heart was racing. She felt like she was suffocating. She needed air. She needed to think. She wanted to race outside in a huff but she didn't want to make a scene. This wasn't about her. She should be happy for Marshall. He deserved better than how she was behaving. If she could just a get a few minutes outside, maybe she would have enough strength to be a better friend to him. She slowly stood up and walked at a very controlled pace towards the door to go out onto roof.

"Mare?" he asked as she passed his desk.

"I'll be right back," she said breathlessly as she pressed through the security door.

She threw open the roof access door and took a deep breath of fresh air. She walked to the ledge, just out of sight from his desk, and pushed her hips into the wall to support her weight. She placed her palms together and brought her hands to rest under her nose against her lips. She took another deep breath as the wind brushed across her skin. She was grateful to feel a sensation other than the adrenaline rushing inside of her. The pounding in her chest had evolved into an ache that fanned out through her entire rib cage with each heartbeat. She ran her hands through her hair then laid them flat on top of the ledge. She was losing Marshall. She realized she had probably lost him quite some time ago.

Marshall's stomach dropped as she saw her walk away. He had played her possible reactions inside of his head for days, but this was not one of them. He was equally dying to know what she was thinking and trying to remind himself that he loved Abigail now. He had given up on her ever returning his love and moved on. His relationship with Abigail was very serious and he knew they would have a wonderful life together, but he missed the closeness of his friendship with Mary. He had been pushing her away and minimally engaging in their usual verbal sparring for the last few months. He berated himself as he acknowledged that he still loved her, knowing that she could never return his feelings. Several minutes passed. He decided he should check on her.

Mary closed her eyes and turned her face up to the wind. The tables had turned. Of course she loved Marshall. She'd loved him for longer than she'd allow herself to admit. No one knew her like Marshall did. No one understood her the way Marshall did. No one cared about her as much as Marshall did. She supposed now that no one cared about her period as much as the way he once did. His announcement was the final nail in the coffin that was about to bury the remains of their relationship.

She truly did want him to be happy but she didn't want to lose him. Marshall marrying someone else, giving his life to someone else, suddenly felt equivalent to him leaving her altogether. She only had herself to blame. His words from three years ago came rushing back to her. 'Here's to the best friend I've ever had, could ever hope to have. The girl for whom no man will ever be good enough. I hope you know that I love you. And I wish for you nothing but a lifetime of happiness.' She now understood the depth of his agony in that moment. Mary wasn't blind. She could see the anguish on his face. She hadn't told him about her engagement because she was trying to avoid that very moment. She knew he would be disappointed in her because she was disappointed in herself. Did she really think she could have married Raph? She was taken aback when he said 'I love you' because she didn't think he would ever admit it. She knew that she loved him too but couldn't admit it; she just didn't know how to disrupt the status quo, as unsatisfactory as it was.

Mary jumped when she heard the door open. She turned her head quickly to see who it was, then turned back just as quickly to avoid his eyes.

"Mare?"

She took a deep breath and slowly turned back to him. "Hey. Congratulations again. Really. It's great." She spoke like she was still struggling for breath and she wondered if it sounded as forced as she feared it did.

"Mary, what are you doing?"

"I'm happy for you. What do you mean?" Her heart started racing again and she was trying to control the shaking that was threatening to undue her.

He expelled a mirthless laugh. It was clear to him now that she was not happy and not okay with his announcement. He did appreciate her efforts to convince him otherwise. It told him that their friendship was still important to her, but he didn't want her to bury her feelings, whatever they may be. She did that too much as it was. "You don't have to pretend…" he began slowly, not knowing how to complete the sentence.

She interrupted quickly. "Who's pretending?"

He silently picked up her end and felt the vibrations of her shivering under her skin. She looked down at her shaking hand and quickly pulled it away, his point acknowledged. "Talk to me," he urged.

"Marshall…" She looked up into his eyes then brought her eyes back down to stare through his chest. He didn't dare speak. He didn't know if he wanted to hear what she wanted to say, but he held on, waiting for her words. She was quiet for several minutes.

"We can't get through this if you don't talk to me."

She forced a smile. "Can't we just pretend that I've been jumping up and down with excitement like an over-exuberant sister?"

"Is that what you want?" He was giving her one last chance. He was going to walk away if she had nothing to say.

"No."

He was taken aback. He expected the matter to be dropped and never discussed again, like so many things between them.

"Then tell me."

What was she going to say? She didn't want to unload all of her shit on him. He was on the road to happiness. She didn't want to throw a nuclear warhead in the middle of his path. But she couldn't stop herself. She began to echo the words he had spoken to her. "Marshall. You are the best friend I've ever had. That I could ever hope to have. No woman will ever be good enough for you. I truly wish you nothing but a lifetime of happiness, but I love you. I love you." She hung her head in shame.

Marshall began to shake as he realized what she was doing with her words. He remembered his speech all too well. He was quite surprised that she remembered it and he was floored as she poetically drew the connection between the two events, knowing she knew what he meant then, knowing she meant the same thing now. He was astounded by her confession.

"What do you mean you love me?" he asked calmly but with irritation. The silence that hung between them answered his question. Another minute passed. "I've spent years waiting for you to say that to me and you decide to say this NOW?"

"I know how inappropriate this is! I just…I've loved you for a very long time but I've always pushed it away because it was more important that I didn't lose you, lose us, but now, as it turns out, I lose you anyway."

"Mary, I tried to put myself out there to you, but you never came."

"I know. I just couldn't do it yet. I didn't want to destroy our friendship. If things didn't work out between us it would destroy us as partners and friends. You are the only person who has ever been there for me. How could I risk that? I thought maybe someday things would change, become something more…"

"What did you think I was going to do? Wait forever?"

"Kind of," she admitted sheepishly.

"You do realize how selfish that sounds!"

"Yes! I'm sorry!"

"You made it abundantly clear what you wanted when you went to Mexico with Faber! And if it wasn't perfectly apparent to me then, it certainly was so when you slept with your ex-husband!"

"God, Marshall, if I could go back and change that I would! Ever since that day, I wonder what my life would be like if I just never made that phone call. Faber was a mistake. I was so afraid of everything that was changing between us. I saw it too. But I couldn't lose you."

"So you did something that truly could not have been any more insulting."

"My intent never was to insult you," she spoke as she shook her head with regret.

"Did you ever even consider the consequences of that action and how damaging it could be to whatever it was that we had?"

"At the time I was wasn't thinking! But looking back, it blows me away how one seemingly simple action could completely change the course of my life. I've been struggling to wrap my head around it," she said calmly, considering the gravity of the notion.

"And what if you hadn't called Faber?"

She looked at him and replied without hesitation, like she had reached this conclusion hundreds of times already on her own. "Maybe Norah would have been yours."

He almost fell over. "What do you want me to do here, Mare?"

"I don't know. Marry Abigail. She's beautiful, she's witty, she's not a coward and people like her."

"Are you fucking kidding me? You lay this bombshell on me and then say 'Marry Abigail'? If that was what you really wanted you wouldn't have said a word!"

"You're right! Of course I don't want you to marry Abigail! But what can I possibly offer you Marshall that you would actually want? I am broken. I can only offer messy," she finished quietly, on the verge of tears, alluding to yet another of his speeches.

"There was a time when I wanted messy."

"I know," she whispered. With these words she brought her hands up to cover her face. His use of past tense resolved for her what he wanted. She felt the tears coming and she couldn't face him. She didn't want him to see her cry. Not like this, knowing that this way how it all ended. Revealing the truth wasn't as liberating as it was cracked up to be.

Marshall could never resist a crying Mary. She had a life full of pain and it made him feel ill when she was falling apart. He was so mad at her, but couldn't deny the overwhelming desire to hold her. He couldn't believe that the last 8 years has culminated with this moment. He didn't know what to do next other than step forward and wrap his arms around her. In return, she wrapped her arms around his chest and buried her face in his chest, allowing the tears to flow freely. Marshall began to cry as well. Although they were miserable, he wanted nothing more than for the rest of the world to fall away and remain in this moment forever. After this moment, decisions would have to be made, actions taken, and hearts broken.

They stood that way for several minutes, neither wanting to let go. He finally pulled her away from his chest with a kiss to her forward. He kept his hands around her at her waist. "I know you were afraid. I never wanted to lose you either, which was why I usually kept it to myself. Your actions, when you thwarted my attempts, told me that I needed to move on. That you would never be mine. But honestly, since we are talking about it, for the first time I might add, if you hadn't gone to Mexico with Faber, I probably would have waited forever." He dropped his hands from her waist, trying to lessen the intimacy of the moment.

She closed her eyes in remorse. "That wouldn't have been fair of me to ask."

"No. It wouldn't have been. I'm only human. I need to be loved. I know that deep beneath your rough and hardened exterior that you do too. That's why I stayed. But you'd start to let me in then push me away. Far away. I attempted to put it all on the line and you wouldn't even let me finish. I felt we would always be doing this push and pull and maybe I should take the opportunity to move on without losing my dignity."

"I don't blame you for giving up. I just...God Marshall, I've just missed you so much. I miss our conversations, I miss your endless spouts of trivia. I miss our verbal sparring. I miss being able to just call you and go out for dinner or come over for drinks."

He stepped away from her, unexpectedly and abruptly. "I've got to go."

Before she could respond, he had already turned his back and in true Mary Shannon form, Marshall had run away.


	2. Chapter 2

Author note:

Thanks for the reviews so far! This story is definitely not over. I have another update almost ready to go but I might wait on additional ones for another episode to see how things progress with Mary's dad to see if I want to incorporate any of the details of that storyline into this universe.

Again, mistakes are my own and I hope I caught them all in my various revisions.

Marshall was overwhelmed. He sat in his car, flabbergasted, unsure of where to go, but knowing he would not be going home and not staying here. He was certain he was feeling every possible emotion, all at the same time.

On the surface, he was angry. He really wanted to punch something. He was angry that she told him. He was angry that she had never told him before. Angry that he couldn't take her into his arms and kiss her. Angry that he couldn't push her off a bridge.

Sadness bubbled to the surface. He thought of all of the time they had missed. He thought about the prospect of embarking on a life truly without her. He thought about a life that no longer included Abigail. He tried to consider which one seemed more painful.

Guilt immediately followed. He felt guilty that she offered her love and he acted like yet another person in her life who just threw it away. He felt guilty for considering another, that his heart wasn't true to Abigail.

He couldn't deny he felt relieved. To finally know the truth. That he wasn't crazy for loving her for all of those years.

He was confused. What did he want? Who did he want? Why did he still love her? Which path should he chose? He wasn't even sure that Mary had even offered a path. Just because she loved him didn't mean she wanted the relationship that he desired from another.

Deep down, he was in awe. He was proud of her for finally opening herself up to him. The year and a half younger version of himself even felt joy, dreaming of the possibilities.

Possibilities meant making a decision, something he had no idea how to do in this situation. He was afraid to make the wrong decision. He had to choose and time was not on his side, which of course made him feel helpless.

He picked up his phone, hating himself for what he was about to do. He didn't feel he had any choice though, as he desperately needed time to sort through his emotions. She answered joyfully on the second ring.

"Hey Ab. Something came up at work and I'm not sure when I'll be home."

"That's okay. We'll do your special dinner another night."

"I'm really sorry."

"It's Friday night. I've got friends. Don't worry, just call me when you can."

"Thanks," he replied sheepishly.

" Be safe."

"I will," he replied and ended the call. He had to end it before she said 'I love you'. He couldn't bear to hear those words from anyone at this moment because all he could think about was Mary's confession. A while ago he had taught himself how to dissociate feelings of love from Mary, and now all of his efforts had been blown away by a simple gust a wind. He supposed the situation was a little more complicated than he was giving it credit for, and that the gust could more accurately be described as a hurricane. He needed to re-compartmentalize the two women then analyze the individual emotions, and that was going to take some time.

He hated lying to her. She was so understanding. He felt guilty for taking advantage of how easy it could be to deceitful given the nature of his job. He had never lied to her. He felt guilty for being grateful at how easy it was. He felt guilty for even considering Mary's confession, but he would be lying to himself if he didn't.

He angrily threw his phone into the dashboard and shoved his keys into the ignition. He started the car and pulled out of his spot, still undecided upon his destination. He didn't want to drive around town all day. He might be spotted by ABQPD, and although it was highly unlikely, he didn't want to risk someone reporting him to Abigail. He didn't want to remain stationary in town for the very same reason. And God forbid they should run into each other somewhere.

He stopped off at an ATM to grab some cash so he could be untraceable and decided to head south to Las Cruces.

Mary remained out on the patio for a few minutes after Marshall left her so suddenly. She couldn't believe that had just happened. She closed her eyes and was again grateful for the sensation of the wind blowing across her face. His voice was echoing in her head and she remembered the feel of his arms around her as he yet again held her together. She took a few deep breaths and tried to dry her eyes. She still had work that needed to be done and she had no choice but to finish it.

With one last deep breath, she turned and walked to the door to return to reality. She felt the salt dried to her cheeks and eyelashes and went into the bathroom to splash water onto her face before returning to her desk.

She wasn't surprised when she didn't see him at his desk. Stan passed her on his way to his office. He gave her a knowing look but wisely chose to say nothing.

Stan knew something was going on between his marshals. He had heard the buzz of the security door when Mary left, but thought nothing of the activity until the second buzz from Marshall leaving. The subsequent minutes of silence was what drew him from his office. Both of his inspectors had left without announcement. He walked over to the conference room to discreetly glance out the window to the patio. For them to take it outside, the issue must be personal and it must be serious. They usually thought nothing of fighting it out in front of the entire office. He saw hands flying through the air and both of them looked enraged. He suddenly saw Mary's head drop and her hands cover her face. Noticing the abrupt change in Marshall's demeanor, then watching him step forward to put his arms around her, Stan felt as though he had invaded their privacy and decided to return to his office.

His interest was piqued again when he heard the door open, followed by the footsteps of someone who had just entered, and saw Marshall through the window in his office. He watched as Marshall angrily stuffed a few items in his bag. 'Fuck!' he muttered loudly as shoved his chair into his desk. Stan walked out of his office just in time to see Marshall step into the elevator. Raising his eyebrows he decided to get a refill on his coffee. By the time he exited the kitchen area, Mary was returning to her desk. He noticed the splotchy appearance on her face and the telltale redness circling the rims of her eyelids. He gave a sympathetic glance then returned to his desk.

Mary sat down and considered how surprised she was that she actually told him. She tried so hard not to, it truly just fell out of her. She should have made her 'I love you' sound more vague. Perhaps they would have been able to salvage their friendship. She was sure by his departure that things could never be the same. Glancing at his vacant desk, she wondered where he had gone. Outside, they had seemed to reach a point where they had connected with each other again, but then he ran away. She considered the appropriateness of that action. She deserved it. Turnabout was fairplay.

She was mad at herself for saying anything. The last thing she ever wanted was to put him in that position. Perhaps it didn't matter to Marshall that she loved him and didn't want him to marry Abigail. Her confession was rather disrespectful of their friendship. She tried to imagine how she would have reacted if he had unabashedly confessed his feelings on that day that revealed her engagement to Raph. Would she have even engaged in the conversation? Would she have let him in? Would she have gone home and broken up with Raph? She remembered looking at him curiously after his toast. 'Did he just say what I think he said? Did he mean what he just seemed to say? Why doesn't he do anything about it?' Her heart hurt in that moment, all of those years ago, because she knew they were great together but they just couldn't seem to get their paths to run together.

She figured that slightly younger version of herself probably wasn't prepared to risk their friendship, even if she did love him in return. She wondered how the path would have progressed if Raph hadn't ended the engagement. Would Marshall have stopped her from actually marrying Raph? She knew Marshall didn't think Raph was right for her and she knew he shared her awareness of the chemistry and bond between them. She was just afraid of taking any of it seriously. It always came down to the fact that it was more important to keep Marshall as her friend than lose him as an ex-lover.

Her heart hurt now as well. She thought again how stupid it was to think that she would never lose him as long as they never pursued a relationship. She never considered the possibility that she would lose him anyway. How would anything make sense without Marshall? Why was she open to him now?

She thought about the role Norah was playing in the evolution of her emotional status quo. She had finally learned that she was capable of loving someone without doubt and without question. Sure, before Norah arrived she had A LOT of both, but it surprised her how naturally loving her came, how good it felt to give love rather than keep it bottled inside. She recalled an intimate moment she shared with Marshall while she was engaged to Raph:

_**"**__I think I want something that just doesn't exist. I want something that's just right. Without argument or doubt. Which is insane, right? Because there's always argument. There's always doubt. So... I guess what I'm after here is the insane goal of an insane person."_

_**"**__I would say it's the ideal goal of someone who has somehow managed to protect the purest part of her heart. Which does not seem insane to anyone who really knows you."_

_**"**__Which would be you and you."_

The love she had for Norah came from that pure, protected part of her heart and thereby helped her come to terms with some of her reservations about love. There is always argument and there is always doubt, but when you really love someone, your bond holds you above those things. She recognized she shared that bond with Marshall and decided that her confession finally came out because she had evolved enough to where she could let someone else into that protected place. Sure, she had no intention of today being the day when it all fell out, but she didn't have a choice when she learned of his plans. Marshall was the only person who really knew her. She knew it then and she knew it now. She didn't know why she had ever given anyone else any thought. The prospect that it was all falling apart at this very moment nearly tore her to shreds.

She roughly pressed her palms into her eyes then ran her fingers through her hair to try to readjust her focus. She forcibly pushed the topic from her mind. His empty chair had become a black hole that was threatening to swallow her whole. The threat assessments were not going to write themselves. The excruciating consequences of losing him would have to be dealt with later.

She barely made it through the three hours until five o'clock. She wasted no time in packing her things and was out the door, with a quick wave of goodbye to Stan. Due to meet up with her nanny at 5:30 to pick up Norah, she thought about the long night of emotional torture she had ahead of her.


	3. Chapter 3

Author Note:

I'm sorry for taking so long to update. I got married last week so I kinda had a lot going on. haha

I'm sorry it's a little shorter. I was going to post everything as one huge chapter but I'm still trying to get the next part right.

I'm still trying to decide if/how to incorporate current events in the show, but none of that will be dealt with here.

Note: I changed Marshall's driving destination in Chapter 2 to Las Cruces rather than Santa Fe. It just seemed like he needed somewhere further away to drive to.

xxxxx

After driving for several hours, Marshall pulled off of I-25 at an exit on the outskirts of Las Cruces. Part of him wanted to drive around all day, but he was frustrated by having nowhere to go. He decided it was best to just check into a hotel, lay down, and try to rest his mind. After getting a room, he tossed his go-bag on the floor, pulled the curtains shut to make the room as dark as possible and threw himself face first into the bed. He pounded his fist into the mattress a few times but then realized his anger had diminished some. Pushing himself into a seated position he finally acknowledged the longing for Mary that he had been pushing away since he began dating Abigail. He didn't believe he had employed her as a Mary-substitute; what he had with Abigail was real. He had successfully covered up his feelings, but he realized in this moment that covering something didn't always make it go away. Something genuine had blossomed on top, but like a time capsule, he figured it was only a matter of time until something dug it up, and suddenly it was if his past self had thrust an important message into the hands of his present self.

In all honesty, he missed Mary too. When she rattled off all of the ways she missed him, he was so overwhelmed that he had to run, or risk making a decision purely based on his long held emotions without any rational thought about the present at all. He wondered what it said about his relationship with Abigail if his basic instinct sent him in the direction of Mary instead. As he stormed away from Mary earlier, the thought had enraged him. However, as he let the argument settle over the last few hours, the affection for Mary was creeping back in.

He truly thought this day would never come. He knew he had to move on with his life if he ever wanted to have one that wasn't centered around someone who didn't love him. No one wants to live that way. He found someone else and was happy. The problem was that all of this moving on was on the assumption and condition that Mary didn't and would never love him back. He had never thought about how to handle the situation if Mary did love him because he never thought she would love him the way he loved her, nor would she be open enough to actually tell him. He had decided to accept this inaction as evidence that they didn't belong together. She had proven him wrong. What did that mean? The newly acquired knowledge of Mary's true feelings sent his psyche into a tailspin.

He knew what a relationship with Abigail looked like, and he thought it looked pretty great. It wasn't perfect, there were things lacking, and he admitted, though only to himself, that at times the relationship felt a little forced, but ultimately he thought they would have a good life together. Marshall wanted a life partner, and Abigail could be that.

He didn't know what a relationship with Mary would look like. Would she be open enough? Would she be emotionally available? Would she still love him years down the line? Could she be the partner that he needed _outside_ of work. He knew she had the potential to be everything he wanted, but he was concerned about the follow-through. A relationship with Abigail was just more stable than a relationship with Mary.

He couldn't help himself. He wanted to talk things over with Mary and give her a chance to talk about the undiscussed topics of their past and about the potential of a future. He had spent so many years loving her that he just had to give her a chance. There were many questions he wanted answered, regardless of the outcome, and the answers were necessary in order for him to sort through this emotion battleground and to be able to make a decision. Was it terrible of him to let that discussion be the determinant of his future with Abigail? If he was satisfied by Mary's answers, would he pursue a relationship with her, and if not would he carry on with Abigail as if nothing had ever led him astray?

He stood up from the bed and reached for his go-bag, deciding he needed to go for a run. It was only a little past five and he figured there was plenty of daylight left to thoroughly exhaust himself.

xxxxx

Mary arrived home with Norah a little before six. She absent-mindedly fed her then assembled a small dinner for herself. She'd held it together at the office fairly well, but now she felt the pressure building within her chest and tears threatening to escape her eyes. She didn't want to be an emotional mess in front of her daughter. Picking up her phone, she wondered if Mark wouldn't mind taking Norah for the night.

Mark arrived a little after eight.

"I was on a date you know," he chided as soon as she opened the door.

"I'm sorry," she said as he walked through the door.

"That's okay," he replied, surprised by her apology. "It was only a second date. Just dinner. I'm trying to take it slow and be a gentleman. I think I actually like her."

"That's great," her response devoid of any emotion. The exchange reminded her of Marshall's reveal of his engagement plan earlier that day. She narrowed her eyes to contain her emotions.

"What's goin' on with you? You never call me last minute to take care of Norah. Not at night anyway," he added with a scoff. "You don't seem right."

"It's been a long day," she tried to placate him with minimal information.

"You usually enjoy unwinding with Norah."

She sighed and stalled with a response. She didn't have much to say. In her silence he noticed how despondent she actually seemed. Mary was a lot of things, but despondent typically was not one of them.

"What happened?" he pried, wondering what, at work, her sanctuary, could drive her to this emotion.

"Mark..." she warned.

"Look, I know I don't have the right to know, but I kind of feel like I should have the right to know. This clearly affects me too," he said as he picked up Norah.

Mary grumbled in displeasure as she decided to tell him. "Marshall..." she tilted her chin up as she paused, steeling herself in order to convey the information. "...is asking Abigail to marry him tonight. Probably right about now," she added with snark.

"Oh wow! That's great!" he replied with enthusiasm, then immediately realized he had the absolute wrong reaction as he was leveled by Mary's death glare. "I mean...oh...that's...what am I supposed to mean?"

"Mark!" Mary complained as she thrust Norah's overnight bag into his open arm.

"What?" he whined in response, semi-mocking her. "So I guess it's true then," he added with a smile.

"What's true?"

"You do kinda like him."

"I hate you."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," she said with thinly veiled aggravation.

"Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me," he said tenderly as he touched her shoulder.

She walked him and Norah to the door, giving her daughter a kiss on the cheek before they left.

"Call me tomorrow when you are ready to pick her up."

"Okay," she replied as she closed the door. She leaned up against it after it was shut and as painful as the solitude was, she was grateful to have the next twelve hours to herself so she could completely fall apart, then slowly piece herself back together.

xxxxx

After his run, Marshall returned to the hotel, took a long hot shower, then promptly fell asleep. He woke up around eleven, confused as to his whereabouts. The events of the day rushed back to him like a tidal wave, in that painful way of when you've fallen asleep and managed to temporarily forget your tragedy, only to be assaulted with it all over again upon waking. He roughly pushed himself out of bed, knowing the memory will prevent him from acquiring any more sleep for at least a few hours. He cursed having nothing to do to occupy his time as running had early. Suddenly he decided he needed to talk to Mary right now. He didn't want to wait until a few days had passed. He picked up his keys and wallet but left his belongings. He put a 'do not disturb' sign out on his door and stopped at the front desk to pay for another night. He was going to drive back to Albuquerque to talk to her, but wanted to force himself to return here to further process the new information he would gain before making a move that he could not undo.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note:

Thanks for all the reviews! I do love hearing everyone's thoughts.

The big conversation is finally here! This chapter hasn't been easy. I wanted to get it just right and I second-guessed almost every piece of dialogue about whether or not it could be seen as in-character. Here's hoping I've succeeded.

I've got some ideas as to where this is going next and I'm getting started right now.

Again, mistakes are my own, but I've re-read a billion times.

Also, I apologize for not having better breaks between the author note and the story, and between the different sections within a chapter. I'm still getting used to formatting on this site, and I'm learning that certain symbols do not show up when I upload my word doc file. I'm hoping I've got it right this time!

xxxxx

He pulled up beside her house just after 2am. Before he turned onto her street, he had considered driving straight past the house to return to the hotel, knowing he should take more time to think about what he needed to day. However, when he saw that the lights were still on, the temptation to talk to her, regardless of how late it was, could not be denied. His emotional state was quite raw, and he was feeling rather edgy, but the need to seek further insight and some sort of resolution was governing his actions. He got out of his truck and considered that she might be up because she was busy with Norah, but he walked up to her house and knocked on the door anyway.

She was alarmed by the sound of knocking. Having spent most of the night alternating between crying and staring off into space, mourning the loss of her best friend, she was in no mood to deal with anyone. Her eyes narrowed and she looked out the window. She kept her distance from the door, highly suspicious of what might show up at two o'clock in the morning. She gasped when she saw Marshall's truck parked on the side of the street, as he was truly the last person she had expected to see after what had transpired between them earlier that day. She walked over to the door, looking out another window on her way to make sure it was really him.

"Hey," he grumbled.

"Hey," she whispered as she let him in. He looked about as miserable as she felt. He studied her face for a moment before stepping in, the blotchy redness and swollen eyelids betraying the cool exterior she was trying to present.

"Where's Norah?" he inquired as he walked into the kitchen, noticing no signs of the baby.

"I asked Mark to keep her for the night. I just needed a little time to try to... process." He nodded in response but was silent. "What's up?" she asked.

"I have some questions," he began suddenly and turned to her. "If you do not answer honestly, if you do not give me your complete cooperation, I'm out of here."

"Okay," she nodded, surprised by his choice to be uncharacteristically direct with her. "Anything."

"Why did you tell me that you love me? Why didn't you keep it to yourself? You've clearly managed to do just that for several years now."

"I'm sorry. I..." she lowered her gaze, shame apparent yet again.

"Don't apologize," he interrupted roughly. She quickly lifted her head, startled by his coarse tone. "Just answer the question."

She exhaled heavily, unsure of what to say. "Marshall... you are the only person on this whole damn planet who understands me. Who knows who I really am. Who I can count on. I know I hardly ever show it, but I understand you too. I know you better than I let on and I would do anything for you too."

"You don't think Abigail does those things for me?"

She deflated at his words. "I'm sure she does. I didn't mean that she didn't. But... you are in my circle, however small it is, of people I would do anything to protect. I will always have your back and I do find some solace in knowing that you will always have mine. I just... I don't want to lose you. I know I have no claim whatsoever to you Marshall. I don't deserve you. But you are like my compass. You make me a better person. And you should know that."

He was quiet as he pondered her answer. He was touched but didn't allow himself to show it. He had a lot of questions and he wouldn't be able to get through them if he got soft now.

"Why wait until now? Why didn't you say something before, like before we moved in together?"

"I didn't think you would actually do it. I never thought it would get to this point. Honestly, at first I thought you were going out with her just to get back at me."

"At first, I WAS. But as it turns out, she's pretty great," he replied, annoyed at his own confession.

"I know. You've told me," she muttered, wondering if he came here just to rub his new wonderful life in her face.

Ignoring her remarks, Marshall asked his next question. "Why do you say you don't deserve me?"

She sighed and began to speak softly. "Because I don't treat you very well. You have a lot of knowledge to offer but I always tell you to shut up. I don't give enough in return. I push you away. The only thing I'm good at is my job, which therefore makes me a very uninteresting person. My family is chaos personified and I'm pretty sure they've ruined me from being able to really connect with anyone." She sighed in irritation, disliking having to be her own punching bag.

Marshall felt bad for prompting her to ridicule herself, but he also gained a certain satisfaction from it. She actually admitted that her behavior could be objectionable, though he didn't really believe anything she said after 'I push you away'. Her comments about herself as a person warranted further discussion, but not just yet. He refocused. He wasn't here to make her feel better. "Do you feel bad about these things?"

"What?" she asked with irritation. What was he trying to accomplish here? "Yes. Every day. Thank you."

"Why did you say you have nothing to offer me?"

"Isn't that just another way to ask why I think I don't deserve you? Same reasons I just gave you!" She was trying hard to control her anger because she wanted to sort things out with him, but he was just pushing every one of her buttons.

"I think it's a valid question," he countered.

"You know what? I have a question. Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be basking in the glow of engagement right now?" she snarked.

"Yeah! I am! But I can't go home! I can't face her knowing I still love you!"

His words squashed her anger immediately. She understood his turmoil and appreciated his confession. She wondered what he wanted and if he even knew. Was he just trying to save their friendship so he could move on or was he considering ending things with Abigail? If he ended things with Abigail, did he want to be with her? Was she ready to just jump into a relationship with him? She softened and knew her help was needed for him to try to make sense of what had happened between them. What she had forced upon him.

She looked up at him tenderly. "I understand you are very angry at me. If you just want to rail on me, I'll let you. But I don't think that is why you are really here. I want to fix this too," she whispered, refusing to break eye contact.

Marshall took a deep breath and looked away, resolving to be a little gentler with her. He didn't want his aggression to adversely influence how the conversation would unfold. He relaxed his tense stance and looked back to her. "I'm sorry I'm angry. I just...I'm really confused about what to do here."

"I'm sorry I've put you in this position." She second guessed herself about revealing the next piece of information, but thought it would help him understand. "I guess I should add that the other reason I never said anything before is that I probably was unable. Having Norah has really changed me with... love. I didn't think I knew how to love. I'd never seen a good model as to how it was supposed to work. But I... I think I've grown a lot. The feeling just flows a little more freely."

Marshall considered her reasoning. He was grateful that Norah was having such a positive influence in her life. She deserved to be happy. "I personally am really glad you kept her. She's beautiful. It fills me with joy to know that she has helped you." He paused before addressing her previous statement about not deserving him. "Everyone deserves someone to love them. I don't agree with the reasons that you give for not deserving me. I understand how what you've been through has influenced your personality and I ultimately do not hold it against you. I think that sometimes you let it hold you back. You shouldn't. Because you are a wildly interesting person and you are great at many things and I believe that you are very capable of connecting with others. You are just very discriminating and people have to earn it. But I think I've earned it Mare."

"I know. You have," she confessed.

" So why have you pushed me away?" he asked, surprised that she agreed.

"At the risk of sounding like a broken record... I'm afraid of losing you."

"But pushing someone away eventually makes them go away."

"I know. With a lot of people that is actually the point," she said with a momentary smile.

"Is it like a test, where if they go away, you can rationalize that you didn't really want them around anyway?" He still didn't understand.

She took a deep breath. Now wasn't the time to hold back. "No. It's that all of my relationships are severely damaged. My mother. My sister. Obviously my father. Previous boyfriends. I don't really have any friends. The only relationship I have that isn't is the one I have with you. You are the only person I've ever been able to count. The only person who has actually been there for me without guilt or question. And I'm terrified to lose that." She fought tears as she continued, her voice lightly trembling. "I try so hard to need no one, to do it on my own, but..." She thrust her hands out, terrified to confess to needing him. "Letting you in makes it that much more unbearable when you leave."

"Why 'when' I leave?" As soon as he asked the question, he knew the answer, and it was visible on his face that he felt terrible for not understanding sooner. Her only answer was a single tear falling over her cheekbone.

With a soft smile, he reached up to her face, and wiped it away with his thumb. He truly hadn't realized he was that important to her. He nodded his head in the direction of the living room and then led her to sit on the couch.

They sat close but without touching. Mary sat forward with her hands clasped and elbows on her knees. Marshall was turned slightly to his right in order to face her, his left elbow on his thigh and right arm over the back of the couch. A minute or two of silence that passed allowed Mary to recompose herself. "I'm not going to leave you like your father did. I will always be someone you can count on Mare," he eventually resumed.

She looked down at her hands. This conversation was painfully revealing. "I know you want to be there for me, but if you marry Abigail, there are other more important commitments that will be coming your way. We won't want to lose our friendship, but we all get busy and people drift away."

He knew this was the truth and he again asked himself who it was harder to live without, Mary or Abigail? If Mary had never told him, he would have been okay without Mary. It would have been hard and he certainly had been learning how to separate from her, but it wasn't easy. Knowing what he knew now made it feel like he would never stop wondering what might have been. Separating from Abigail would be extremely difficult, but it occurred to him that once the motions of the break up was over, the actual living without her didn't seem so unbearable.

He quickly moved on to his next question to stop his brain from making a decision before getting more information. "When did you realize you loved me?"

She sighed, unsure of how to verbalize such a thing. "I don't know. It kind of grew on me. There's always been this thing between us," she said evasively.

"Elaborate," he said gently.

"Well, even on our first case we had that connection in the car. That was the first time I'd opened up to anyone in years. And little things accumulated over the years. Like when you helped me get Leo Billups out of that courthouse." She laughed slightly at her next memory. "Earlier he made fun of your jammies and I told him how much of a badass you were."

Marshall chuckled before the seriousness of her tone returned.

"I felt proud of you," she added. "And my surprise party when Brandi first came out to stay. We walked up to my house and I said that I just wanted to go to bed and not deal with anyone, but at that moment, I really just wanted to fall asleep on the couch while watching a terrible movie with you. Earlier that day Raph had mentioned not really wanting to come, that 'we had already done our thing' so I got up and left and then all I could think of was how you would never say such a thing to me."

He shook his head at Raph's stupidity.

Mary continued. "The whole Treena diamond smuggling bullshit. I was tickled when you thought my lipstick smearing was a kiss. When I was teasing you afterwards, I felt a little disappointed when you justified it as 'I'm a guy, it's what we do.'"

He enjoyed hearing her memories and felt vindicated when he learned how far back they went. She hadn't decided she loved him just because she was faced with losing him. "So when did you know?"

"When you were in the hospital after Horst. The thought of you quitting really hurt, and I was really pissed. But when you got shot, I realized that there was nothing worse than you dying. I would have done anything if it meant you wouldn't die. Sitting by your bed, that first night when you were recovering, it all just came crashing down on me."

"Why did you go back to Raph then? It was right after I got out of the hospital." He leaned forward to emulate her posture.

"I honestly don't have an answer for that. I knew I loved you but I didn't know what to do with it. Raph just showed up after his surgery and I couldn't just send him away when he needed help. I think when I noticed that he was getting close to Brandi, I got jealous. I didn't want my family taking yet another thing away from me. I shoved my feelings for you aside because I just thought I should just be grateful that you stuck around. Better not press my luck. And it isn't like you had confessed any feelings to me. Hell, in that gas station, I thought you were going to tell me that you couldn't stand being with me and I was the reason you wanted to leave."

"You were."

"What?" she asked and sat upright, surprised because he had previously denied this as the reason. "But you said…"

"That was true too," he interrupted. "But I wanted to leave because I loved you and I didn't think you'd ever love me back. I was having trouble moving on from that, and I thought the only way I could was if I got away from you. I had to try really hard not to tell you that in that conversation. When you asked what the problem was with our arrangement of being each other's only friend, that was the problem. I wanted more. But in that gas station, I got the feeling that you needed me, and I thought it might be enough, even if you didn't love me."

"God, I suck so much at everything Marshall," she said in a rushed exhale, and fell back into the couch.

"No you don't," he countered as he sat back up and turned to her again, momentarily placing his hand on her knee, then placing it on the back on the couch.

"I wish I knew then."

"No you don't. You would have run. We wouldn't be here now."

"Where are we exactly? Because this doesn't feel like a good place." She sat up then turned towards him, tucking her left ankle behind her right knee to sit face to face. She pulled a throw pillow onto her lap to rest her elbows on. "It's been strained between us for a long time now."

"Which brings me to an important question." He paused and took a slow breath. A pained expression came over his face, which prompted Mary to know what was coming. "I need to know why you took Faber to Mexico. I can understand the reasons for so many things that you do, but this one... I'm just at a loss"

She toyed at a piece of fabric on the pillow. She knew there was no answer that could justify that decision. "I wish so badly I could give you some reasonable explanation but I have none. You did make me think, Marshall," she said, referring to his words in the office shortly before she left for her vacation."But then I got mad at myself for thinking things could work between us. All I can say is I was confused and made a decision to lash out at the world."

He shook his head. It wasn't enough. "I know that you know you made a mistake, and I don't want to continue to punish you for it, but you need to know the damage you caused." She nodded in understanding, which encouraged him to continue. "You really hurt me. You just crossed this line, unspoken though it was. I chose to move on. I no longer believed you would ever confess your feelings for me. I want to say that we can start anew, but a lot has changed."

"I can't express how sorry I really am." she asked, feeling her throat tighten.

"What do you want from me? Really want," he asked tenderly.

"Only anything you are willing to give, Marshall. At this point I recognize that might be very little and I know I've fucked up big time, but I hope I haven't ruined us permanently. We might not even be friends anymore after this. Do you know how much that kills me?"

"Telling me while I _didn't_ have a girlfriend that I was about to propose to probably would have turned out differently for you," he stated with light sarcasm but without malice. They'd already visited that topic and he wasn't trying to rehash it. After several moments of silence he added, "To think of our friendship destroyed kills me too."

"What are you willing to give?" she asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer.

"I don't know," he sighed, but with his next breath he sadly added, "Everything."

He sounded lost but Mary saw a glimmer of hope. She placed both of her hands on his knee and began very slowly. "I want everything Marshall. I'm sorry I never told you before, but I'm telling you now."

"How would things be different?" he asked, his tone very serious as he tried not to be distracted by her touch.

"What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly afraid to say the wrong thing.

"If I was no longer in a relationship, how would things be different? Between us."

"How would you want things to be?" she asked as she withdrew her hands and resumed fiddling with the pillow.

"Nope. I'm not giving you an answer for this." This had to come from her. He was not going to go through life wondering what she would have said if he hadn't supplied her the words.

She hesitated, afraid to say it out loud. "I'd want us. To be together," she whispered after several moments. "I'd want to build a life together." There it was. She exhaled slowly.

Again he was shocked by how upfront she was being. "How would you be different?"

"You mean, how I would change?" she asked, concerned that he wanted her to be someone else.

"No, I don't want you to change who you are. But we can't be together if both of us treat each other the way we have been doing. What would you do to ensure a successful relationship?"

She hung her head, unable to look at him. Asking her to evaluate their hypothetical relationship was heart-wrenching. She was putting everything on the line and she had no idea if he was going to meet her there. It was a fair question though. "I would be more open with you. I can't promise to be perfect Marshall. I don't think I'm capable of not being a pain in the ass, but I wouldn't take you for granted. I want to be there for you as you have been there for me. I'd want to move slow; I think we'd need time to grow into the changes, and I'd want to take that time because I don't want to ruin this."

"I want to believe in of those things," he said with both hope and doubt. She lifted her head to look at him again.

"I know they're just words, but there is proof I can do it Marshall. It's not like I've never let you in. There isn't anyone closer to me than you. You get through to me when no one else does. How many people do you think I've let hold me when I've cried? Sometimes you are the only thing holding me together."

His gaze drifted to his left as if he was looking towards a far off place. He spent a few moments replaying the more emotionally intimate moments they've shared, then asked, "And the reason you pull back comes down to not wanting to be too close because of your fear that I'll leave you?"

She nodded and he resumed his recall of conversations from the past.

She interrupted his daydream with a moment of boldness. "When did you start loving me?"

He chuckled for a brief moment. Was he really going to discuss his love for her when twelve hours ago he was ready to propose to someone else? In all honesty, he was still trying to figure out what to do. He knew he couldn't be with Abigail anymore, knowing he was still in love with Mary. But could he really just jump into a relationship with Mary? Would it work? "The interest began by the end of our first case. I mean, initially I hated you. I thought you were a complete lunatic, but then I was shocked and impressed how you really helped Claudia and Henry. I was completely bewildered and entranced by your unorthodox measures. I was infatuated within a few months of your transfer and the love really grew from there, the more I got to know you," he expressed with fondness.

She scoffed. "Most people hate me after they get to know me."

"I would argue that they didn't actually get to know you. And I'm not most people," he said with a grin.

"Why do you love me?" she pushed further, surprising herself that she dared to ask the question.

Marshall took a deep breath as he considered what to say. Could he tell her? "I love you because of how much you care about people. You'll fight for them to the death. You challenge me in ways that drive me insane, but you make me better at my job, and better at life. I love your energy. I can feel the electricity coming off of you. You are so full of passion. I love watching you with Norah. I love our chemistry and the sound of your laughter. I love watching you work and how well our contrasting styles complement each other. I love how pure your heart is. You protect it with the hardest, thickest outer shell I've ever seen, but I love being the one you let inside. I love knowing you better than anyone else in the world. I feel like I know this secret that no one else knows and I feel so lucky."

She was overwhelmed and didn't know what to say. The silence started to become awkward and Marshall immediately feared she was going to run away. She eventually opened her mouth. "That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," she whispered with a smile and for a moment she looked truly happy.

He reached up with his left hand to place his palm to her cheek. She tilted her head slightly to lean into his touch, then closed her eyes for a brief moment. When she opened them he leaned a little closer and whispered, "You deserve someone who will say nice things to you every day." She smiled sadly, looking into his eyes, wishing for that person to be him.

Marshall was overcome by emotion and his heart was racing. He had just verbalized everything he had ever wanted to say to her. He moved closer and leaned forward to pull her into a hug, resting his chin on her shoulder and pressing his head against hers. They sat there for a minute, trying to figure out where they go from here. Marshall suddenly pulled back, placing his thumbs over her jaw line, wrapping his fingers behind her neck. He studied her eyes: the dilated pupils, liquid pooling in the corners, how the muscles of her eyelids contorted to alternately express love, loss, and confusion. The threat of tears was apparent within his own eyes, but slowly moved his face closer to hers.

He saw fear flare up in her eyes and she stiffened as she realized he might be about to kiss her. When she held his gaze and didn't pull away, he closed the distance of the last few inches and finally kissed her. She immediately relaxed into his touch lifted her chin to give him better access. She felt dizzy with excitement and placed her right hand on the back of his neck to anchor herself to him to try to soothe the trembling. He broke contact for the slightest moment as he repositioned his lips, but was instantly back upon her. Mary could feel the moisture on her cheek as a tear finally slipped from his eye. She reached up with her left hand to brush he tear from his cheek and she could feel him whimper under her lips.

He pulled out of the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. He sat for a moment, breathing heavily with his eyes closed, then whispered, "What do you want Mare?"

He was giving her an out. She lifted her chin and pressed her lips to his again in response, this time with more heat. He parted his lips slightly and her tongue darted out to lick them. He groaned at the sensation, then enveloped her upper lip, sucking ever so slightly. She responded by licking his lower lip then taking it into her own mouth. He clenched his hands against the side of her face as she opened her mouth to allow his tongue passage. He thought he was going to explode. He had waited nearly a decade to kiss this woman. He allowed himself the moments of joy before reluctantly pulling away again.

"Wait," was all he could manage as his lips slipped away.

"What?" she whispered, not ready to return to reality.

He let his hands fall to her shoulders and looked at her with anguish. "I need to go," he whispered regrettably, though knowing it was the right thing to do. "I still need to figure some things out. I want to do this the right way."

She nodded as a tear slipped down her cheek, not wanting him to go but knowing he was right. "Are you going home?" she wondered, not liking the idea of him returning to share a bed with Abigail.

"No. I got a hotel in Las Cruces this afternoon. I left my stuff to make myself go back and think about how to do this."

She kissed his forehead and another tear fell from her eye. He wiped this one away then kissed its trail on her cheek. They untangled their legs from the couch and he pulled her up as he stood, immediately wrapping his arms around her in a final hug.

"I can't believe you drove back and forth to Las Cruces today and you are still going back tonight," she murmured into his shoulder.

"I just wanted to get the hell out of Albuquerque this afternoon. I need to be somewhere removed from my life to figure out where to go next," he whispered.

She understood the need to shut everything out. She wanted to ask him to promise that he would come back to her but she held back in order to give him the freedom to decide what he needed to do. "Just drive safe. It's late."

"I will. For you," he whispered, echoing a sentiment from years ago, then released her.

She walked with him to the door, then opened it. He turned to her one last time. "Mare..." he struggled with his words, "No matter what happens...I just want to tell you... I love you."

"I love you too," she said as she touched her palm to his chest. They gazed uncertainly at each other for a moment, then he lifted her hand from his sternum. He kissed the back of her fingers then released her hand and turned out the door. She watched as he climbed into his truck and drove off.

She shut the door then returned to her couch. Thinking about everything they had just discussed, still in disbelief that they had finally kissed, she curled up and pulled a blanket over herself. She shed a few tears before quickly falling asleep, completely emotionally exhausted.


	5. Chapter 5

Well, I've picked this story back up. I always had a plan beyond the first 4 chapters, and that plan evolved as season 5 evolved, but my motivation came to a grinding halt with the finale. Although I've still enjoyed reading fic, sometimes my excitement for Mary/Marshall just seems like a lost cause. It's nearly impossible to go back and watch early episodes with the same passion. But this story won't quit in my brain, even though chapter 4 had the major emotional revelations. I really want to take it through the whole return-of-the-father thing. I guess, for me, it's just that there is more angst to be had, and I am an angst junkie.

So the rest of this story is a parallel universe to season 5. I'm not sure how far I will take it yet, but major events will be woven throughout, starting with The Medal of Mary, altered some so they fit into the universe of this story.

I'd like to send a special thanks to all of the IPS fic writers who have kept my love for M&M alive! And to all the readers who keep reading, thereby keeping a demand for more fic!

xxxxx

Marshall stayed in Las Cruces through Sunday evening. He had been at Mary's so late on Friday night that he stopped to watch the sunrise as he got close to the city and morning was in full swing by the time he returned to his hotel room. He turned on the desk lamp as the room was still dark from the drawn curtains. After a quick call to Abigail to reiterate that he still didn't know when he would be home, he pulled out the bottle of whiskey he had purchased on his first drive down. He felt terrible all over again for lying to her. It wasn't more than an hour and a half past dawn on Saturday morning, but he decided it was the perfect time to turn off his brain, drown himself in his sorrows, and properly pass out.

He woke up Saturday evening quickly realizing he hadn't eaten in over 24 hours. He ordered take out from a restaurant at the recommendation of the front desk clerk and mentally replayed the previous night's encounter with Mary last as he devoured his pizza: the anger, the hurt, how the volatile tidal wave receded into understanding, comfort, and love. He remembered the peace he felt as he told her why he loved her, finally allowed to speak what he'd always wanted to say. The fire of their kiss burned his lips again at the memory. He'd spent years wanting to taste her.

But what would their future hold? Would they save each other or destroy each other? Was leaving Abigail worth the risk?

One question kept asking itself over and over in his mind: Could he walk away from Mary? If he stayed with Abigail, detaching from Mary would be an inevitability. They had already begun walking separate paths, which would only continue to diverge. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't imagine his life without her. They'd grown apart in the last year, but he would still drop everything to help her. He still questioned his own actions the day he protectively threw his body over Mary instead of Abigail. Why DID he choose to protect Mary first? He quickly rebuffed Abigail's unspoken insinuation, but only because he was battling the same question in his mind at that very moment. It was easy to write it off as being due to her pregnancy, but Marshall knew that thought hadn't entered his mind. He hadn't thought anything, just reacted, like his heart and body knew the direction of the truth.

xxx

He spent the Sunday hiking at Organ Mountain. The peacefulness of the trail granted him some relief, but at the end of the day, he was still at a loss. He knew two things: his heart yearned for Mary, but he didn't trust his own judgment. Regardless of his choice, he felt he needed to be honest with Abigail, then beg for her to stick with him or set her free.

The knowledge of having to return to work the next morning could not be ignored. He returned to the hotel to shower, and even though he had paid for that night, he decided to return home a bit after having dinner. Leaving Las Cruces at 3am to get clothes and try to make it to work on time was just not appealing.

He arrived home just before eleven. Quietly, he walked into the bedroom to find Abigail already asleep and he sighed in relief. He could wait another day before ripping the rug out from under her feet. He wondered if he made the right choice in coming back to the house, but he had to go to work in the morning and he needed a change of clothes. Soundlessly, he removed his shirt and pants, contemplating where he should sleep. He stepped into the bathroom and turned on the water to clean his face and brush his teeth. The bathroom sink provided just enough sound to wake her.

"Marshall?" she called as she drew back the covers to step out of bed. She padded to the bathroom door and caught him looking in the mirror, face wet and water dripping from his chin. He was staring at his own exhausted appearance, waging a war with himself. He jumped slightly when she spoke again. "You look horrible," she whispered with heavy concern.

He glanced at her through the mirror, then back at himself. "It's been a long weekend," he replied, painfully.

"Anything I can do?" she asked as she stepped closer to wrap her arms around his waist, hands grasping his bare chest. Their eyes locked in the mirror. Her eyes narrowed questioningly as she took in his haunted depths.

Being in her presence confused him. He did love her and he didn't want to break her heart. The guilt came back with a surge threatening to drown him. She was so loving and kind. Part of him wished he divide himself in two so one of him could live the life he always wished for with Mary and the other could just stay in the life he has with Abigail.

"I..." he began slowly but stalled because he couldn't say the words. He immediately questioned what he really wanted. He couldn't do it tonight. The exhaustion was overwhelming and he didn't want to say the wrong thing. Tomorrow night, he told himself. He just wanted one more day to make sure. "I think I just need a good night's rest," he sighed.

She kissed his shoulder blade and gave him a tender squeeze. She was tempted to press the issue as he had been gone all weekend and she wanted to reconnect. Everything about him seemed off, but she knew she'd get nowhere with a tired Marshall. She hoped something hadn't gone terribly wrong with a witness.

Releasing him from her embrace, she climbed back into bed and he followed a few minutes later. She snuggled into his side, her head on his shoulder, hand resting on his chest. He wrapped an arm across her back, not wanting to seem too distant, but the intimate embrace made him feel like he was betraying Mary. 'That's funny,' he thought mirthlessly. He didn't feel like he'd betrayed Abigail when he listed to Mary the reasons he loved her, nor when his lips finally touched hers. He weighed the two women in his mind for the thousandth time in last 48 hours. Everything came back to Mary, but he was afraid to lose the life he could have with Abigail.

xxx

Mary slept late Saturday morning. She had fallen asleep on the couch after Marshall left but relocated to her bed when she was awakened by the light of dawn. After the emotional onslaught of remembering the conversation from the night before, she made a pot of coffee and took a shower. The sound of Marshall's last words to her echoed in her head: "No matter what happens...I just want to tell you... I love you."

She knew he was still deciding what to do. His words were ominous. As much as she wanted to believe he would make his way to her, she decided it was time to start emotionally preparing herself for him choosing Abigail. She pictured what life without Marshall would entail as she drove to Mark's to retrieve Norah. She knew life would keep her busy, between Norah, her family, and work. Distractions wouldn't be hard to find, and while she would be crushed, she would carry on as usual. She would probably cry in the shower sometimes, where she could hide the tears even from herself, as they were drowned by the volume of water falling above her. But then she would get out, dry herself off, and get on with her day. Mary was a survivor, and she was incapable of letting anything destroy her. However, there would be something missing, an empty space that would never be filled, a hole quite similar in dimension to the one she incurred when she was seven years old.

She would miss Marshall terribly. He was the only person that knew how to handle her. He was the only person she opened up to. She could barely admit it, but she cherished having that rare, deep connection with someone where words were just too simple to describe it.

She shook her head to push the thoughts from her mind. She couldn't focus on negative thoughts or she would drown. She desperately needed to swim. She had to give Marshall time to think and in the meantime she had plenty of responsibilities with which to busy herself. She was grateful to have Norah at the center of her focus.

Mark convinced her to stay for lunch. He gently tried to pry about her mood, but Mary wasn't sharing. She was quiet, but the time passed quickly as they talked about Norah and played with her. Mary watched as Mark read her a book. He really was turning out of be a great dad, despite all of her misgivings. Wouldn't life be easier if she could fall for Mark and they would live happily ever after? She scoffed at herself, almost amused by the absurdity of the idea. That just wasn't a path she could walk. She considered that she, at one time, had most certainly thought that the idea of a life with Marshall would be equally absurd. However, the differences between the relationships were just too great to list, and the respective histories had come to define the present possibilities.

She spent Sunday running errands, doing laundry and cleaning up the house, doing anything to avoid thinking about Marshall. Would he be at work tomorrow? Would he let her know what was happening before having to face each other in such a setting? As she was putting away the last of her laundry, well after Norah had been in bed, she heard the doorbell ring. She glanced at the clock, seeing the time as well past 11pm. Marshall... she thought to herself. Who else would it be at this hour? She had to suppress the grin that was threatening to spread across her face as she walked to the front door.

xxx

Marshall was awakened by the vibration of his phone on the nightstand some time before 4am. He fumbled for its contours and answered without looking at the screen.

"This is Marshall."

"Hey," a voice whispered and he suddenly pushed back the covers and sat up. They hadn't spoken since he left her house Friday night. "Hey."

"I'm sorry for disturbing you. I know that I'm probably the last person you want to talk to right now but... something's happened," she spoke softly and tentatively; controlled but disturbed.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he jumped out of bed, speaking a little too loud and waking Abigail.

"I was getting ready for a bed a few hours ago when there was a knock at my door. When I opened it..." Her voice cracked and she didn't know what words to use to finish the sentence.

"What? What happened?!" he asked as he started pulling his clothes on, his pulse rate doubling, terrified something had happened to her or Norah.

"James Wiley Shannon," she struggled.

"Mary," he whispered tenderly, shocked by her answer. More than 30 years of her life culminated in this moment. He felt a rush of pain and empathy for her, but then suddenly realized she didn't tell him what happened next. "Where are you? Are you safe?"

"FBI."

He exhaled loudly in relief. He hadn't thought if James ever showed up he would do anything to hurt her, but the man had been gone for over 30 years. There was no way to know what he would do. "I'll be there in 20 minutes."

"No, no. Go back to sleep. I'm fine."

"Where's Norah?"

"With Mark," she answered as it dawned on her that he said he could be there in 20 minutes. He apparently was no longer in Las Cruces. "Where are you?"

"At home."

Mary was silent and a million questions swept through her mind. Was Abigail there? Had they talked? If he is home, does that mean he decided to stay with her? Why couldn't problems in her life be resolved just one issue at a time?

Marshall was oblivious to the significance of her silence, focused on getting to her. He walked out into his living room to slip into his shoes and put on his jacket. "I'm leaving in a minute."

"Don't worry about it. Go back to sleep. I only called because I didn't want you to hear about this from anyone else," she insisted. If he had worked things out with Abigail, she didn't want to know, she didn't want to think about it, and she wasn't ready to see him.

"Okay, okay," he replied, fully planning on ignoring her request. He could get there quicker if he just said okay and got off the phone.

"Okay. Goodnight," she spoke quietly then hung up the phone.

As he reached for his keys in the living room, he suddenly realized Abigail was probably awake in the bedroom. He couldn't leave without saying anything. He instantly regretted not dealing with his mess earlier that night and felt guilty about the solace he had sought by trying to delay it until tomorrow. He walked back to the bedroom, keys in hand.

She was already sitting up in bed. "Marshall? It's almost 4 in the morning. Where are you going?"

"I'm sorry. I have to get over to the FBI. Mary's father just reappeared."

"Why do you have to go? You had such a long weekend and just got to sleep," she protested.

"I know. I just need to make sure she is okay. I'm just going to make sure she gets home safely and doesn't spend the entire night down there," he placated.

"Marshall," she warned, "You aren't her keeper."

Marshall was momentarily paralyzed by her choice of words. She had no idea as to the significance of that single word. After all of these years, something inside of him still insisted that he was. He didn't want to hurt Abigail, but he knew she deserved someone who put her first, without question. He knew it could be him, should be him, but his relationship with Mary changed everything. They desperately needed resolution after the conversation the other night, and with everything they had been through over the years, and that was going to take some time. Things might not work with Mary, but it wasn't fair to subject Abigail to his inner turmoil and the arduous process of reconciling a relationship with another woman.

However, he didn't have time for that conversation right now. It would have to wait a few more hours. Right now he needed to get to her. "I'm sorry. I've got to go. We'll talk when I get back."

Abigail nodded to release him, and he ran out the door.


End file.
